


come back, come too

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, background hella/adaire, lem king takes a while to realise things and feelings, spoilers for up to SiH 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 21:51:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16542953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: All through their travels Fero was there, poking and prodding and laughing and generally distracting Lem from getting any real work done. He's still managing to do that, somehow, even now they're separated.





	come back, come too

**Author's Note:**

> thanks, as always, to maddie, for betaing
> 
> title from 'adventures in solitude' by the new pornographers

“I’m  _ bored _ ;” said Fero, “this is  _ boring _ .”

 

Lem didn’t look up, pointedly turning the page. “It’s studying, it’s not supposed to be interesting.”

 

Fero groaned loudly, jumping up onto Lem’s bed and rolling from side to side. Lem pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing, managing to school his expression back into seriousness by the time Fero had finished his dramatics.

 

“Leeeeem,” said Fero, drawing the words out as grateingly as possible, “come ooooon.”

 

“I have to finish this chapter,” said Lem.

 

“No you don’t.”

 

“Yes I do,” said Lem. “You, on the other hand, don’t, so if you’re really so bored you can go do something else.”

 

“If I leave you you’re going to seal yourself away in here and never come out,” said Fero, “they’ll find you in a hundred years, still reading this chapter.”

 

“The only reason it would take me that long to finish is if you were in here distracting me,” said Lem, turning another page despite the fact that he hadn’t really absorbed any of the words on it.

 

“I’m not distracting you, I’m helping you take breaks,” said Fero.

 

“I don’t need a break,” said Lem. “I need to finish this reading.”

 

Fero was quiet for a moment. “So how much more do you have to go?”

 

Lem held up the book, holding the segment still left to read between two fingers. Fero collapsed back on the bed clutching his chest. Lem couldn’t quite muffle a laugh this time.

 

“Come on Fero, I’ll only be another few hours,” said Lem, “and you really don’t have to stay here for all of it.”

 

Fero didn’t like being in the Archives, although you wouldn’t know it from how often he was there, at Lem’s elbow as he searched through a library catalogue or messing around with something in Lem’s room.

 

Fero pushed himself up on one elbow. “If I don’t keep an eye on you, you’ll go right into the next chapter, or you’ll find something in there that you just  _ have  _ to find out more about, and you’ll  _ never _ take a break.”

 

Lem turned in his chair, frowning at Fero. “I will not.”

 

“You will so,” said Fero, kicking his feet back and forth in time with his words.

 

He slid off the bed, stepping over to Lem’s desk and sliding his arms across it. Lem lifted the book up before he could reach it, trying to keep reading. Fero huffed, and Lem felt a moment of triumph before Fero poked him sharply in the side, making him drop the book.

 

“Ow!”

 

“There’s no way that hurt,” said Fero, reaching for the book.

 

Lem managed to push it out of his hands, where it landed with a heavy thud on the floor. In a blink, Fero had turned himself into a cat, sitting on the book and looking up at Lem.

 

“Fero, I’m serious,” said Lem.

 

Fero turned back into a halfling. “Exactly! You’re too serious! You need a break!”

 

“I need you to get off the book,” said Lem, carefully proding the book with his toe.

 

“No,” said Fero. “Not until you agree to go outside.”

 

“ _ Fero _ .”

 

“ _ Lem _ ,” mimicked Fero. “You’ve got a whole, like, two days to read this thing, going outside for like an hour isn’t going to throw you off.” His expression softened. “You've been in here all week.”

 

Lem sighed. “I suppose, if it’s the  _ only _ way to get you to give me some peace.”

 

Fero grinned. “That’s just what I’m going to do!”

 

Lem rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

 

Fero let out a whoop, pulling Lem out of his chair by his sleeve through the corridors of the Archives. Lem let himself be pulled, making apologetic expressions at other orcs as they passed by. 

 

Outside surprised Lem by being mid-afternoon, instead of night like he and his internal clock had thought. Autumn was on its way, but there was still warmth left in the air, blue sky peeking through the pine trees overhead 

 

“See?” said Fero. “Isn't this better?”

 

Lem took a deep breath in and let it go slowly, closing his eyes against the breeze. 

 

“I suppose.”

 

“Yeah, you're  _ welcome _ ,” said Fero, “come on, this way!”

 

Fero jumped from place to place in front of him, turning into different animals with each leap - a rabbit, a squirrel, a wolf, a sparrow, a cougar, the last of which made Lem start, tripping over his feet.

 

He woke up to the sound of Fero's cackle-laugh in his ears.

 

Lem shook himself, blinking at the pages in front of him as his mind reorientated itself to his surroundings. A strange dream. Or memory, rather. A strange time to have a memory. Well. Back to work. 

 

He tapped his pencil on the edge of the book, looking down at the words in front of him as he tried to remember where he'd been up to last. He couldn't remember what Fero had been so keen to show him that day. The waterfall? A view from somewhere up high? 

 

Lem shook himself, frowning down at the page. He needed to solve the Pattern. No distractions. 

 

Perhaps that was the time Fero had found an old apple grove, the cluster of trees making the air smell sweet.

 

Lem huffed a breath, standing up and walking in a circle around his desk trying to clear his head. Fero wasn't even on his plane of existence and yet, somehow, he was still distracting him. 

 

Perhaps he'd go for a walk. Perhaps Samothes had some good techniques to keep focused. 

 

Samothes did not.

 

“Maybe it would be easier to continue the work if you got some rest,” said Samothes.

 

“I don't need rest,” said Lem, “I feel fine.”

 

Samothes took a long look at Lem, his gaze reminding Lem sharply of Samol. 

 

“I see,” said Samothes. “Well if you will not take rest I cannot force you.”

 

“It's not that I  _ won't _ ,” said Lem, “it's that I don't  _ need  _ to. I'm just having a little trouble focusing, that's all.”

 

Samothes leant forward in his chair, pouring out two cups of tea. Despite the warmth, steam curled in the air. Lem's eyes followed the shape of it as it disappeared. Samothes hummed, pulling Lem from his daze. 

 

“Is there something that's pulling your focus perhaps,” offered Samothes.

 

“No,” said Lem, “nothing. I'm only focused on the Pattern.”

 

Samothes hummed again, his eyes not leaving Lem. “Well then. Very mysterious.”

 

Lem shifted in his seat. “Yes.”

 

Lem sat through half an excruciatingly quiet cup of tea before excusing himself, heading quickly back to his laboratory. He picked three new books off the piles next to his desk, opening them with purpose, his eyes moving quickly over the words, then slower as they annoyingly blurred together.

 

Lem let out an annoyed breath. He'd just rest his eyes, for a moment. Just a moment. Then he'd get right back to it. 

 

He was in the middle of some kind of test, studying and studying and studying and falling asleep and waking up and studying again. It passed by in a blur, only made bearable by the mugs of tea and small bowls of soup that appeared near him. He wasn’t sure where they were coming from - he hadn't ordered anything this week and he wasn’t putting in any effort to do a pattern for them - but he certainly appreciated them. 

 

It was the last night, the night before the test, and so Lem finally, finally allowed himself the small luxury of dragging himself to bed. Fero was already there, somehow hogging the covers despite his small size and smelling faintly of soup. Lem blinked tiredly down at him, too tired to even be surprised.

 

“You better not have gotten any dirt in my bed.”

 

Lem meant it sound commanding, or at least annoyed, but instead it same out as a cracked grumble. 

 

Fero blinked up at him sleepily, wriggling to make room and then wriggling back again to fit against Lem's side as soon as he laid down. Lem huffed, too tired to put up the argument he usually did. Fero always won out in that particular instance anyway. 

 

“Finished?” said Fero. 

 

“Almost,” said Lem, “test tomorrow.”

 

Fero nodded, his face rubbing against Lem's side, already falling back asleep. 

 

Lems eyes closed on his own darkened bedroom at the Archives and open again on the pages of the book he'd fallen asleep on top of. His stomach grumbled. 

 

He wondered if the kitchens here had any soup. 

 

They did, even going so far as to offer an old orc staple. It was lovely, really, as perfectly done as anything in Aubade. Objectively and completely better than, say, a mess of root vegetables and a thin, half-remembered halfling recipe. Even if he did, somewhat, feel a little unsatisfied by it. 

 

That night, he fell asleep in a real bed for the first time in weeks. His bed felt oddly shaped, too big along his side somehow, and it took him a little while to get comfortable enough to relax, a pillow tucked along his side. He didn’t dream, the night passing too quickly for one.

 

He blinked up at the ceiling, feeling out of place in the room that had been his for almost five years. Or, no, he was in place. But as though something in the room was missing. Some key piece of furniture or home comfort, perhaps. 

 

Surely he must be able to find a replacement. No one lacked for anything in Aubade. 

 

“Hella?” said Lem.

 

“Mmm?” said Hella, through a mouthful of food. 

 

She'd been stopping by more since she dropped off that card, (lovely card. Lem still had it on his desk. Somewhere) lunches and afternoon teas, mostly from Adaire's store, lately from other places. Lem didn’t get out much lately, but today she'd pulled him all the way to a cafe across from DuCartes. 

 

“Hella,” said Lem again, “do you ever think about life before we got here?”

 

Hella finished her mouthful, watching him carefully. “Yeah, of course. All the time.”

 

“Yes, perfectly natural, I suppose,” said Lem.

 

Hella gave him a strange look. “Don’t you?”

 

“Well I have a lot of other things on my mind,” said Lem, “finding a way to solve the Pattern takes a lot of my attention. I don’t have a lot of time to dwell on the past.”

 

“How’s that going by the way?” said Hella, “You still seem kind of… distracted? I guess?”

 

“Have I? Well, I suppose I haven't been getting much sleep,” said Lem, “The Pattern you know, it takes a lot of work. And strange dreams, or, I suppose they're memories.”

 

“Dreams huh?”

 

“Yes,” said Lem, he opens his mouth to elaborate and then closes it again.

 

He tapped his fork on his plate. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Of all the people he’s trapped here with, Hella is the only one who he really has any experience with. Even in Nacre, when they were working at cross-purposes, she felt like a trustworthy guiding force. 

 

“Hella, do you ever think about Fero?”

 

Hella shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”

 

Lem nodded. “Yes, I thought so. Perfectly normal.”

 

“What is?”

 

“Thinking about Fero,” said Lem, gesturing with his fork.

 

“Right,” said Hella. She paused, pressing her lips together for a moment. “Lem… Lem, do  _ you _ think about Fero?”

 

“Now and then,” said Lem. “I’ve been having these dreams lately, so I suppose he’s been on my mind more than usual.”

 

“Dreams… about Fero?”

 

“Yes,” said Lem. He takes another bite of his stew, thinking. “Well, they’re more like memories, but never of anything particularly important. When I dream - or,  I suppose, when I remember it while I’m asleep - we’re never doing anything particularly important, we’re just… hanging out.”

 

Hella’s gaze slid past Lem to the window. “Sometimes the times when you can just hang out and relax with each other can be kind of important moments, too.”

 

Lem twisted to look out the window behind him. Outside, Adaire was directing stock as it was unloaded from a cart.

 

“I mean, if you can’t  _ trust _ someone enough to just  _ hang out _ with them without them having some weird plan then are you really even friends?” said Hella. “And like, if they  _ tell _ you their weird plan as part of the hangout,  _ then _ what are you supposed to do, just go along with it?”

 

“Fero didn’t really do that many weird plans,” said Lem.

 

Hella’s focus snapped back to him. “Right! Right. So, uh, you’re having dreams-”

 

“Memories. While I’m asleep.”

 

“Right, you’re having  _ memories when you’re asleep _ about Fero,” said Hella, “And this is… a problem?”

 

“It’s  _ distracting _ ,” said Lem. “It’s even worse than him being here in person because I can’t get away from it.”

 

“O- _ kay _ ?” said Hella.

 

“So, what do you think I should do?”

 

“About what?” said Hella.

 

“About the dreams! Memories! Whatever!” said Lem.

 

A couple at a nearby table look over at them curiously.

 

Lem lowered his voice. “You said I should let you know if I needed any help.”

 

Hella let out a breath, running her hand through her hair. “I don’t know Lem, it sounds like…”

 

Lem leant forward. “Like…?”

 

“It sounds like maybe you miss your Fero.”

 

“No,” said Lem. “Or, I mean, of course, I miss all parts of home but we… I need to focus on finishing this. Once I’m finished, I’ll have done what I came here to do and then I can go home. Missing Fero, even if I  _ was _ missing him specifically, shouldn’t have any effect on me. I should be able to  _ focus _ , I should be able to  _ do this _ .”

 

Hella reached across the table, putting a hand on his arm. “Hey. It’s going to be fine. We’re gonna get through this.”

 

Lem took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. “Okay.”

 

“And even if you can finish your pattern here you can just bring whatever back with us. That storm gets closer every day.”

 

Lem blinked. “The… I don’t know what that means.”

 

“The storm? The one that means the sword’s being fixed and we can go home?” said Hella.

 

“That isn’t… that’s not really any clearer,” said Lem.

 

“It’s… complicated,” said Hella, “Look, don’t worry about it, me and Hadrian have got an eye on it, we’ll let you know when it’s time.”

 

Lem nodded. “Is that… Hadrian’s looking better.”

 

Hella nodded, seeming relieved at the opportunity to change topics. “Yeah, we’re training in the morning again now, I think that’s good for him, he’s coming out on the boat more… next time I go out, you should come.”

 

“Sure,” said Lem, absolutely certain that he would not do that.

 

After all, every time he’d gotten on a boat it had been an absolute disaster. Probably best to steer clear of them until he got the Pattern sorted.

 

“Well,” said Lem, standing up before Hella could make a more concrete offer. “I should get going. Lots to collect for the Pattern today.”

 

“Oh! Sure, okay,” said Hella, “So do you need help, or…”

 

“Nope, No, I’m fine,” said Lem, “It’s really not that much, it’s just, you know, collecting them takes time and then there’s the Pattern itself…”

 

“Right, sure,” said Hella, “I can… do you want company?”

 

“No, no, I’m sure it’d all be very boring to a, uh, a non-Archivist,” said Lem.

 

“Well you let me know if that changes,” said Hella. “You know I’m here to help.”

 

“I do,” said Lem, “and I really do appreciate it.” He paused. “And thank you for lunch.”

 

Hella smiled. “No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow, there’s a new crepe stand that’s opened up, I think you’ll really like it.”

 

“Sure! Sure okay,” said Lem.

 

There really wasn’t that many items that he needs to pick up. The issue was more... logistical. Lem considered this as he tried to keep the bundle of sticks under his arm while carrying a pile of papers and open the stairway door.

 

“Lem! Hey!” said Hella, from behind him.

 

Lem turned to see Hella and Hadrian, both sweaty from some afternoon training session or other. Lem noted, distracted by the sticks slipping again, that Hadrian seems lighter since he and Hella had started doing that. Perhaps that is was just that he was clean-shaven once again.

 

“Hello,” said Lem, trying to hike the bunch of sticks up without toppling the pile of papers.

 

“Do you, uh, want a hand with that?” said Hella.

 

“No, I’ve got it,” said Lem.

 

“Are you sure,” said Hella, “because--”

 

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” said Lem.

 

“At least let me open to door,” said Hadrian.

 

“No! No, I’ve--”

 

He finally managed to maneuver the door open. The brief moment of triumph faded as the movement loosened his grip on the sticks. Instinctively, he went to grab them, sending the papers fluttering down the now-open stairwell.

 

“--got it,” finished Lem, watching the papers drift slowly down.

 

Hella winced. “Do you--”

 

“No,” said Lem, “thanks.”

 

“Okay,” said Hella, “we should probably bathe anyway. Hadrian’s really stinking up the hallway here.”

 

“Me?” said Hadrian, mock-offended, one hand on his chest.

 

Hella laughed. “Yeah, come on, before you make Lem pass out.”

 

She put her hand lightly on Lem’s shoulder as she passed. He nodded, which seemed to be the right thing to do as she nodded back, gesturing for Hadrian to follow as they headed down the hallway.

 

Lem looked back into the stairwell, trying to see how far down the pages had gone. To keep their part of the pattern they had to be gathered in such a specific order...

 

“What’s with him?” he heard Hadrian, his voice bouncing around the corner.

 

“Give him a break,” said Hella. “Don’t you miss Rosana?”

 

Lem wrinkled his nose. He certainly didn’t see what that had to do with anything.

 

By the time he’d collected all the broken sticks and scattered pages, the sun was low in the sky, and he was exhausted from walking up and down stairs all day. He deposited them in a pile in the middle of his laboratory.

 

“I’ll try again tomorrow,” he told the pile.

 

There was a book on advanced pattern theory that he’d been meaning to read anyway. He settled down by the window. He’d just read until he needed to get a lamp to see by, and then he’d start working it through again, seeing what else he might need. The chair was so soft, and Lem sank back into in, closing his eyes against the warm afternoon sunlight.

 

When he opened them again, he was looking up at the bright blue sky, leaning back on his hands, his feet dangling in the cool stream water. Lem took a deep breath. Nowhere he needed to be, nothing he needed to do. He flexed his hand in the dirt, feeling the soft grass brush against his skin.

 

Fero was asleep beside him, his fingers brushing against Lem’s. Lem looked down at him for a moment, watching movement of dappled sunlight on Fero’s skin. He shifted to lie down, relaxing back against the grass. 

 

Fero stirred faintly, rolling to be closer to Lem. Lem smiled, a reflex he was developing. Orcs didn’t have a tendency for closeness, at least not like Fero seemed to, always close no matter what form he was in, curled against Lem’s side or hopping on his shoulder or winding around Lem's legs. Lem pressed his lips together for a moment and then slowly, hesitatingly, leant his body closer to Fero's, to see how it would feel to be the one to make the first touch for once. 

 

Fero made a soft noise in his sleep, turning to press his face into Lem's arm. Lem could feel the flutter of his heartbeat against his side, his breath warm through the thin fabric of Lem’s shirt. Lem smiled again, letting his body relax, letting himself lean into Fero a little more.

 

He closed his eyes. When he opened them he was awake, alone in the room. Just like he should have been. 

 

Lem sighed, rubbing his eyes. He picked up the book from where it had slid to the floor, smoothing the wrinkled pages. It was bad enough that the dreams were a distraction. Now they were coming with their own odd feeling, a strange tightness in his chest. Perhaps he was coming down with something.

  
  


“That’s not it,” said Adaire.

 

He’d gone to DuCarte’s the next day, wandering around the herbalist section until he’d bumped into Adaire.

 

“What do you mean  _ that’s not it _ ,” asked Lem, “is it… it’s not more  _ serious _ , is it?”

 

“That depends on what you mean by  _ serious _ ,” said Adaire. “People don’t get sick here, so… you’re not sick.”

 

“Okay,” said Lem, “But-”

 

“So that means it’s something else,” said Adaire.

 

“What else  _ could _ it be?”

 

Adaire guided him to a small seating area. “Okay, well, what are your main symptoms?”

 

“Um, I suppose… difficulty sleeping? Or, no, not really, because I fall asleep perfectly fine but then I have these dreams, and then when I wake up, I have this,” Lem gestured, “feeling in my chest.”

 

“Hmm,” said Adaire, gaze curious. “Bad dreams could mean a lot of things.”

 

“They’re not  _ bad _ exactly. And they’re more like memories?”

 

“Memories,” said Adaire, considering, “Memories of what?”

 

“Hanging out with Fero mostly,” said Lem. He thought about it for a moment. “Actually, I think they might  _ all _ have been hanging out with Fero. Huh. Strange. I hadn’t thought of that.”

 

“Do you think of Fero often when you’re awake?”

 

“No,” said Lem, “Or, now I do, sometimes, I suppose. After I have a dream.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Right,” said Lem.

 

Adaire hesitated, the silence only broken by the distant sound of someone pushing a trolley through the homewares isle.

 

“Well,” said Lem, “You’re a doctor, what should I do?”

 

“How should I know, this isn’t a medical condition,” said Adaire, “and anyway, I’m not a doctor any more. I’m a department store owner.”

 

Lem made a frustrated noise. “You don’t have  _ any _ advice?”

 

Adaire sighed. “I don’t know, Lem. I don’t know you or Fero that well but it seems like maybe you have some shit to sort out that you can’t sort out while you’re in here.”

 

“No we don’t,” said Lem.

 

“Didn’t you guys have, like, a big fight right before you switched places with Throndir?”

 

“We… maybe,” said Lem, “but we would have worked it out. We will work it out, I mean, when I get back. Nothing to worry about. It’s fine.”

 

“Right,” said Adaire. “Then, I guess, you’re fine. Nothing wrong with you at all.”

 

“But what about the, you know… the weird  _ feeling _ ?”

 

Adaire let out a long breath. “Lem… Sometimes there are times when you want to tell someone something, but maybe you don’t quite have the right words for it, or the timing felt off so you didn’t say it, or you were having a moment and you didn’t want to ruin it, and then later you realise  _ that was the moment, _ and so you’re just left carrying around the words you should have said.”

 

“What does this have to do with--”

 

“When you have these dreams, these memories of Fero, was there something you wanted to say?

 

Something cletched in Lem’s stomach. “I don’t know what you mean. What does this have to do with an odd chest pain?”

 

“That’s the words,” said Adaire, leaning forward to tap his chest, “trapped in here.”

 

Lem made a face. “Is that really your  _ medical _ opinion?”

 

“That’s my  _ life _ opinion,” said Adaire. She stood, smoothing out her skirts. “Take it from me Lem. That feeling’s going to keep coming back.”

 

“Well, how do I stop it?”

 

Adaire huffed a laugh. “You’ll be my first customer on that as soon as I work it out. I should get back to work. A place like this doesn’t run itself, after all.”

 

“Right, of course, I’ll just…”

 

Lem watched Adaire’s brisk pace away from him.

 

Hella waved him over to her counter as he passed by. She seemed a little frazzled - the desk, usually kept so orderly, was strewn with ribbons and scraps of tissue paper.

 

“Hey, so, listen,” said Hella, “the storm--” She cut herself off, lowering her voice. “Um. I’m going out on the boat tomorrow, and you should come.”

 

“Oh, I don’t-”

 

“No, Lem, listen, it’s uh, it’s really important. To me, I mean. It’s important to me that you come.”

 

Lem hesitated.

 

“I know you’re working really hard but that’s, um… that’s why we should go out!” said Hella, “Take a fun boat break and then you can go right back to it. I mean, it’s always easier to concentrate after a break, right?”

 

“I… suppose?”

 

“Great, so you’ll be there?” said Hella.

 

“I… yes,” said Lem.

 

“Great!” said Hella, “So I’ll see you tomorrow at like midday, you don’t need to bring anything, obviously. And like, this is just a small boat, so you know, don’t… invite anyone else, okay?”

 

“Who would I even invite?”

 

Hella laughed, the sound overly-loud compared to the quiet tone of her words. “Right! Right. Okay, well. See you tomorrow!”

 

Predictably, his dreams that night were of the water.

 

It was a struggle to man Calhoun’s ship with the party going on. Some of the crew members were a little help some of the time, but they were really more focused on partying than on sailing. The only one that really seemed to lend any real guidance to them was Calhoun, disappearing with Hella every so often to go over their course.

 

Or, that’s what Lem assumed they were doing. He didn’t really know too much about boats, and Hella always seemed more relaxed after she went below-decks with Calhoun.

 

Lem wished that he felt so relaxed, running from sails to rigging, listening for Fero’s shouts about rocks above him and ducking under the sails as Hella adjusted their course. They slept in shifts, seeing each other from a distance as they rushed around, keeping the ship on-course.

 

Hella seemed to be having almost as good of a time as the party-goers, steering the ship and climbing the rigging with ease.

 

Fero, on the other hand, looked more miserable by the day.

 

“Are you sea sick?” Lem asked.

 

Fero paused in his count of their supplies, leaning around the barrel of fresh water. “No, why? Are you?”

 

“No,” said Lem, “it’s just that you seem… not like yourself.”

 

“I mean, I told you, I don’t like boats.”

 

“But you’re not seasick?”

 

“ _ No _ ,” said Fero, “I’m fine.”

 

He didn’t  _ seem _ fine, shoulders hunched inwards as he turned back to counting the supply on preserves. Lem stepped closer, half-raising a hand to put it on Fero’s shoulder before he thought better of it.

 

“Are you  _ sure _ ?”

 

“Lem!” snapped Fero, “I’m fine, okay? I just… I just don’t like boats, which I was pretty clear about before we got on this thing.”

 

“Well if you hated them so much why did you even come?” Lem snapped back.

 

“Because  _ you _ were going and what else was I supposed to do!” said Fero, his arms gesturing widely.

 

“You didn’t have to do that!” said Lem, “I can look after myself!”

 

“Oh yeah? Well then you can… you can finish doing this yourself!” said Fero, shoving the parchment into Lem’s hands.

 

“This is your job!” said Lem, waving the parchment.

 

“No, it’s not! I’m supposed to be  _ asleep _ right now! This is  _ your job _ that I was  _ helping you with _ !” yelled Fero, “But since you don’t-- since you can do this  _ all _ on your own I’ll just get out of your way!”

 

“Fine!”

 

“Fine!”

 

“Great!” said Fero, slamming the door behind him.

 

Lem stalked over, opening the door to yell after Fero. “It  _ is _ great!”

 

“Good! I’m glad it’s great!” yelled Fero.

 

Lem slammed the door. He sat down on one of the large bags of rice, letting out an angry breath. Fero just had to make things more difficult than they needed to be. Lem would have been perfectly fine on his own. He would have been  _ fine _ .

 

He woke with a tension between his shoulder blades that hadn’t been there when he’d gone to sleep, as though his body was remembering the long night of being hunched over crates and boxes in the rolling hull of Calhoun’s ship.

 

By the time he woke up enough to get out of bed it was close to midday, giving him barely enough time to pull on clothes and rush down to the docks. Instead of Aublade’s usual mild weather the wind was blowing hard, pulling tendrils of hair from Lem’s messy braid and sending sprays of saltwater onto the docks. He was glad he’d brought a jacket.

 

Hella waved to him as he approached. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show!”

 

“We were starting to think we would have to leave without you,” said Adelaide.

 

Hella glared at her. “No, we weren’t.”

 

Adelaide held her hands up, her smirk not fading in the slightest. “A joke.”

 

“Right,” said Hella, turning back to Lem, “Well, come on board!”

 

It felt, somehow, even windier on the boat than the docks.

 

“Are you sure… I don’t know that today is the best day for a boat ride,” said Lem.

 

“Sure it is!” said Hella, “Here, you can help Hadrian with the sail.”

 

Hadrian gave Lem a tight smile as he approached. “Glad you made it.”

 

“Hella was very insistent yesterday that I come,” said Lem.

 

“She was like that with me as well,” said Hadrian, his gaze sliding to where Hella was pulling up the anchor.

 

“I suppose when you like sailing, you like sailing no matter what the weather.”

 

“Sure,” said Hadrian. “Here, you hold this while I get the sails.”

 

Lem held the rope loosely, looking down at it in his hands before he looked back up to where Hadrian was readying the sails, the wind pulling at them as he tried to maneuver them. Waves were already slapping at the sides of the ship as they pulled out of the docks, making Lem stumble before he caught himself.

 

He looked over his shoulder. Adelaide was leaning on the wheel, not quite steering it, not quite lounging on it, stepping away with a smile as Hella moved towards her. Adaire stayed a few places behind, leaning on the railing and glancing over her shoulder at Hella.

 

Hadrian clapped a hand on Lem’s shoulder, making Lem jump.

 

“That’s done,” said Hadrian. “Thanks for your help.”

 

Lem let go of the rope he’d been holding. “Oh. Yes. No trouble at all.”

 

Hadrian moved to sit in one of the deck chair, and Lem followed him. He wasn’t quite sure what you did on boats when you weren’t rushing around trying to keep it afloat. Once he was sitting down, the cabin shielded him from most of the wind, the sun warm on his face.

 

Hadrian tipped his head back, looking up at the clouds. “It’s a shame about the, uh, weather today. Usually we do some fishing.”

 

“Oh, well,” said Lem, “that’s okay. I don’t know that I’m any good at fishing.”

 

“Anyone can be good at fishing,” said Hadrian, “I take-- I took Ben out all the time.”

 

“Right,” said Lem, not sure what to do with the distant look on Hadrian’s face. He looked out to sea instead, at the storm rolling in the distance. “Ah. How far out will we be going?”

 

“Not that far,” said Hadrian, his eyes closed, “Hella’s a great captain. Don’t worry about it.”

 

Lem eyed the storm warily. “Okay.”

 

“I might go ask her about that myself,” said Adaire.

 

“We’ll be  _ fine _ ,” said Hadrian.

 

“I know, but I like details,” said Adaire.

 

Lem could hear her climbing the small steps above them, joining Hella and Adelaide by the wheel. Every other word was snatched away by the wind, giving him only bare fragments of their conversation.

 

“Storm’s close… safe to do?”

 

“... we’ll be fine, besides we don’t… what I’m doing.”

 

“I know but I… back home… pieces.”

 

Lem’s eyes drifted shut, the deck chair made more comfortable by the exhaustion in his limbs.

 

“...can’t do this?”

 

“You know … Hella, I’ve … do anything.”

 

Hella’s soft laughter drifted down. “That’s… less pressure.”

 

“... just a fact. I know you ... I trust you.

 

Lem’s throat felt tight. He focused instead on the sound of the waves, the slow rolling of the boat, a pattern of sound and movement.

 

He was standing, still dripping water, in Uklan Tel’s study, a white-knuckled grip on the book as Fero yelled at him, as furious as Lem had ever seen him. As strange as it was to see him so angry, it was even stranger to be on the receiving end of it, to see Fero shaking with rage. Lem’s throat ached, all the arguments he wanted to make back to Fero crowding his throat.

 

The was a bruise on Fero’s neck that hadn’t been there before, and blood on his shirt, neither of which had been there when Lem had last seen him; when he’d left Fero alone, and hid from Morbash and other consequences.

 

It wasn’t his  _ fault _ though. He hadn’t known Fero would be…. Fero was usually fine. He was fine, stamping his foot and gesturing wildly.

 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Uklan move, the final piece of the pattern falling into place, and then he was falling, falling and falling and falling, swallowing down the words that threatened to escape him.

 

The deck chair he was on fell to the ground, startling Lem awake. He’d wanted to say something in that moment, say anything. There were more than a few moments like that, in his memories, where the words had stalled in his chest, making it hard to breathe. Fero had always been so good at know what he’d  _ meant _ to say that it made it hard to find the words when Fero didn’t know.

 

Fero hadn’t known, that day in the Archives. And Lem hadn’t been able to get out any words at all.

 

A wave crashed over the side of the boat, drentching Lem in water. He spluttered, struggling to stand on the rocking deck, noticing with panic how close the storm was, almost on top of them. He could hear people yelling above him - Hadrian, and Hella.

 

“Uh, Hella?” Lem yelled up, “Are we supposed to be this close to the storm?”

 

“No!” yelled Hadrian.

 

“It’s fine!” yelled Hella.

 

Lem frowned, making his way towards the wheel and pulling himself towards them. Adaire and Hella had ahold of the wheel, keeping them turned towards the storm. Hadrian was on the other side, trying in vain to right their course. Adelaide was still as poised as ever, watching Hella and Hadrian with far more interest than the storm as she gripped the railing.

 

“Hella,” said Hadrian, “Hella, we can’t--”

 

Hella pulled at the wheel again, wrenching it out of Hadrian’s grasp. Hadrian stumbled back, into Lem, catching himself on the railing.

 

“What’s  _ happening _ ?” said Lem, “The storm--”

 

“They’ve fixed the blade,” said Hella, “We’re going  _ home _ .”

 

“ _ Now _ ?” said Lem, “But, no, Hella, the Pattern, I’m not done, I can’t--”

 

Hella made a frustrated noise, muscles straining to keep the wheel straight. “It’s now or maybe  _ never _ . We can’t wait.”

 

“But,” said Hadrian, “Samothes, Hella, we  _ can’t _ \--”

 

“The  _ Pattern _ ,” said Lem, at the same time.

 

“I asked him,” said Hella. “He wanted to stay.”

 

“If you just go back, I can get my work, I can take that with me,” said Lem. “Hella-”

 

“We can’t turn back,” said Hella.

 

“No,” said Hadrian, “He, I was going to… we have to go back. Hella, you have to turn the boat around, I know I can convince him, I know I can get him to come home too.”

 

Hella looked over her shoulder at him. “I can’t,  _ we _ can’t, if we go back the storm might be over by the time we get back out and then… this is our  _ chance, _ Hadrian.” She bit her lip. “Don’t you want to go  _ home _ ?”

 

“But… but what if Samothes needs me?”

 

“Rosana and Ben need you, too,” said Hella.

 

Hadrian swallowed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He took a shuddering breath. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. What do you need me to do?”

 

“Hold steady,” said Hella, “and brace yourself for the worst of it.”

 

“All my  _ work _ ,” said Lem, “I was so  _ close _ .”

 

Adaire patted his hand, guiding him to Hella’s side to take her place at the wheel. She put her hand on Hella’s waist, leaning up to speak closer to Hella’s ear.

 

“I’ll go secure your cabin,” said Adaire.

 

“Thanks,” said Hella, “And… thanks. You know?”

 

“I can always make a new department store,” said Adaire, giving Hella a small smile before heading carefully down the stairs.

 

“All my work,” sighed Lem, “just  _ gone _ .”

 

“I’m sure there’ll be people who continue it on here,” said Hella.

 

Lem made a face. “ _ I _ was supposed to be the one doing it, that was the whole reason I was sent here.”

 

“Was it?” said Adelaide.

 

Lem scowled. It was, it had to be, because if it wasn’t then he hadn’t been needed at all, just another part in a broader Pattern. His chest felt tight again, the memory of Fero swimming to the front of his mind. Fero, enraged and yelling at the top of his lungs and  _ hurt _ . And Fero, annoying and poking him in the side, and laughing, and asleep against Lem’s side, and all of them waiting for words that were too caught in Lem’s throat to be said aloud.

 

“Hella,” said Lem, “I think I might miss Fero.”

 

Hella put a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah buddy, I know. But we’ll see him soon. We just have to get through this next part.”

 

The storm was almost above them now, and Lem struggled to help Hella keep the wheel steady.

 

“This next part,” said Lem, as it started to rain. “Right.”

 

The storm seemed to go on forever, the world narrowing to their small boat, to the wheel in his hands. Hella yelled into his ear, trying to be heard above the storm, Distantly he was aware of Adaire and Hadrian below them, working just as frantically to keep them afloat. 

 

And then, stillness, a shimmering fog surrounding them.

 

Lem’s heartbeat sounded loud in his ears. “Is it… is it over?”

 

“I think so,” said Hella, her voice low, “that seems like the worst of it anyway.” She glanced at him. “I’m gonna go see how the others are doing, can you hold this for me?”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Hella put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Keep an eye out for rocks, I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

“You’re not going to ask how I’m doing?” said Adelaide.

 

“You’re fine,” said Hella.

 

Lem took a deep breath in as Adelaide followed Hella down, his muscles still jumping under his skin despite his exhaustion. Below, Adelaide disappeared into the cabin, probably looking to dry off. 

 

Hella went to Hadrian, slumped against the railing, one hand still gripping the ropes. They spoke quietly to one another, their foreheads almost pressed together. Lem heard Hadrian laugh, a hoarse but genuine sound. Hella grinned, standing to move towards Adaire.

 

She leant against the railing next to Adaire, their hands brushing against one another with the movement of the ship. Hella said something, her voice low and tone sincere, and Lem could see Adaire’s cheeks turn pink. Their hands touched in earnest, and Lem quickly looked away, focusing on the sea in front of them.

 

“Hey,” said Hadrian, coming up the stairs behind him. “I’m relieving you, go get some rest.”

 

Lem scrubbed a hand over his face. “That’s…  _ you _ don’t need rest?”

 

Hadrian huffed a laugh. “I’m an old soldier. I can keep going a little longer. Go.”

 

Lem felt the exhaustion hit him as soon as he let go of the wheel, feeling the stiffness in his legs, his arms like lead weights. He made it down the stairs, stumbling into the small cabin and ignoring Adelaide’s annoyed sound as he flopped onto the tangle of spare ropes and sails. They were damp, but so was he. Lem pulled the sail over his head, feeling as though he was asleep before he even closed his eyes.

 

He was in a garden, one he’d never seen before, familiar herbs and strange flowers growing dense, climbing the dirt walls. Lem frowned. Strange. He didn’t remember ever having been in an underground garden before. Perhaps this was just an ordinary dream after all.

 

Lem walked on, stopping every so often to examine the strange plants, making his way to what was probably the centre of the garden, where there was a small clearing, the streams that criss-crossed through the garden beds meeting in a small pond. There was a figure by the pond.

 

“Now I know I’m dreaming,” said Lem.

 

The figure startled, twisting around, jumping to its feet.

 

“ _ Lem _ ?”

 

“I don’t know why  _ you’re  _ so surprised,” said Lem, “this is my dream.”

 

“No it’s not,” said Fero.

 

Lem laughed. “Yes it is. It’s alright, it’s quite nice to have a normal dream for once, instead of just remembering you.”

 

Fero made a face. “Remembering me? Is it that awful to remember me?”

 

“No, it’s-” Lem let out a frustrated breath. “I just mean it’s nice to see you outside of a memory, even if it is just a dream.”

 

“Well, first of all, this isn’t a dream,” said Fero. “I don’t know how you’re  _ here _ but it’s not a dream.”

 

“If it’s not a dream, then how come you’re not mad at me?” said Lem.

 

“Oh I super am, don’t worry,” said Fero. “But I figure if this is the last time I see you, well. I already did my yelling. That didn’t seem to help all that much.”

 

“Fero, I’m sorry that I…” Lem huffed a laugh. “This is pointless, apologising to a dream.”

 

“ _ You _ , apologising?” said Fero, a familiar bite to his words.

 

“Listen I am  _ trying _ to say... there was something I wanted to say to you, that I should have said to you, the last time we saw each other, and maybe… maybe in other moments too.” Lem swallowed, his throat aching with the effort of letting the words out of his chest. “Maybe in all the thousand tiny moments that we spent together there were a thousand tiny somethings I wanted to say, should have said. And I didn’t. But I’m coming back, we’re coming back, right now, and then… and then I’ll say them.”

 

Fero swallowed, pressing his lips together for a moment before he spoke. “Maybe this  _ is _ a dream, but I’m the one having it.”

 

“Fero-”

 

“No, listen,” said Fero, grabbing Lem’s hand. His touch was warm, sending heat through Lem’s arm and spreading through his chest.

 

“Listen,” said Fero again, “I have some things, maybe, that I want to say to you, too. And I’d rather say them in a dream than never say them at all.” He took a deep breath. “Lem King, you’re awful-”

 

“ _ Excuse  _ me?”

 

“No, listen, let me finish,” said Fero. “Lem King, you’re  _ awful _ , but I still miss you.”

 

“I think I miss you too,” said Lem. “I… I’m not sure things are as good when you’re not around. In fact they’re pretty terrible, a lot of the time. And I don’t think they would have been nearly as bad if we were together.”

 

Fero laughed, and the bright sound of it sent another wave of warmth through Lem’s body. He smiled down at Fero.

 

“I kinda know what you mean.” Fero squeezed his hand. “Hey. Are you  _ really _ here?”

 

“I’m starting to think so,” said Lem, “I’m not sure I could dream this up.”

 

“You’re really coming back?” said Fero, his voice small.

 

“Yes,” said Lem, “Yes I…” his throat felt tight, words catching in it, and he tried to push through. “We’re coming back, we’ll be back soon.”

 

Fero stepped forward, his free hand sliding around Lem’s waist and his face pressed against Lem’s stomach. His body fit against Lem’s side, years of curling against against other making the movement easy.

 

“Oh,” said Lem, “you have flowers in your hair.”

 

Fero reached up with the hand not tangled with Lem’s, touching his hair. “Yeah. It’s spring here, so. Y’know.”

 

“It suits you,” said Lem.

 

Fero’s cheeks flushed. “Thanks. I invented them myself.”

 

Lem laughed. “You invented them?”

 

“Yeah,” said Fero with a laugh. “Oh, I’m inventing all  _ kinds _ of new stuff, new animals, you’re gonna love it, it’s so cool!”

 

“New stuff huh?”

 

“Yep!” said Fero. “It’s pretty wild.”

 

“Well then, I’m excited to see it for myself.”

 

“When you get here,” said Fero.

 

“Yes,” said Lem, “When I get there.”

 

The dream faded slowly this time, the warmth remaining even as Lem opened his eyes., stepping out onto the deck again. The fog around them was beginning to clear, the distant shapes of trees and mountains around them, bringing their home back into view at last.

 

“Almost there,” said Hadrian.

 

“Yes,” said Lem, thinking of the small flowers intertwined in Fero’s hair, the warmth of the underground garden, the feeling of Fero’s hand in his. “Almost home.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


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